


The Painful Calm

by Hestias_Hotel



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt Crowley, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Sad Crowley (Good Omens), Self-Harm, Triggers, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-19 02:01:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22103362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hestias_Hotel/pseuds/Hestias_Hotel
Summary: Crowley is going back to his old ways of harming self. Aziraphale helps him think past that. It’s a good ending :))
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 70





	The Painful Calm

**Author's Note:**

> Possible triggers. Please READ THE TAGS!! Also GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS!!If they make you uncomfortable, don’t read. This is also a vent post btw. I’m also tired so just ignore mistakes

Crowley was tired of this.  
He needed relief. Not wanting to resort back to his self-destructive habits, he tried to think of alternatives

I could...  
He stopped. He can’t do it.  
It wasn’t going to help, he was sure of it.  
“I should call him.” Crowley reaches for the phone.  
No. He can’t help. This was Crowley’s design, and he needed to finish it.  
“ ‘get it done then..” He finally whispered.  
Crowley found himself sitting on the edge of the tub. Laid out in front of him were three things. A washcloth, rubbing alcohol, and a single razor blade. 

I can’t do this. Not now. He’ looks be wondering why I can’t come over.  
He glanced back at the blade.

He can wait. It can’t.

Crowley dipped the blade in alcohol, then wiped it on the cloth. The light reflected off the stupid little thing so beautifully.  
Arms would be to obvious. Just below the hip would be perfect. Out of the way, and not visible in casual conversation.  
He struggled to get a good grip on the blade.  
“There we go.”  
He yanked down his pants with the one free hand he had.  
Once down, to about his knees, he gripped the blade.  
It wasn’t the pain of the cut that was calming. it’s the satisfaction of the blood drip down. The blood that would slowly seep out. Then could be left for a brief minute.  
A distraction from everyday life. Now.  
He slid it rather gracefully into his thigh. Carving a deep cut along the way.  
Then the pain hit. It was favorably the worst part, but satisfaction was soon to come. After the initial pain, blood started to swell to the surface.  
He let out an exasperated gasp.  
Just a few moments after, the phone rang.  
He decided to ignore it. Whoever it was, clearly not as important as this.  
He sat there few a minute.  
He needed more.  
After a few more minutes his thigh has countless(strategically placed) cuts. Blood dripped down the edge of the tub.  
He felt better. This pain was temporary. Relief lasted a bit longer.

Crowley then thought about Aziraphale. He clearly didn’t care about him. That made the demon even sadder.  
“Sorry, it’s just coping.” Crowley apologized under his breath.  
Now with Azi on his mind. He needed to call.  
He dabbed the cloth on the cuts, but also not fully taking care of them.  
They were left to rub freely against the inside of his pants.

He didn’t pick up.  
“Damn! Fuck You.” He shouted into the empty line.

Aziraphale arrived at Crowley’s flat early in the morning.  
“Hello dear, sorry to barge in but you didn’t-“ He paused.  
Crowley was stretched across the couch snoring loudly.  
There was a mild feeling in the air Aziraphale could sense. It was mild discomfort and so I dare to say, pain.  
The angel sneaked closer to Crowley. He slowly ran his hand along his jaw. This made Crowley move slightly. Also causing a stretch of the back to take place.  
Aziraphale’s hand crept down the demons body. Once he arrived to his hips, Crowley started to protest.  
“...stop.” He whispered as he flinched away from the hand.  
“I’m sorry, I’ll just-“  
The demon glanced up at the angel.  
“No! Don’t go. You said you wanted to go somewhere to eat?” Crowley sat up and adjusted his shirt collar.  
“Well, I guess if you’d care to.” He blushed.

Crowley tried to stand up. But a sharp pain ran down his leg, throwing him back on the couch.  
“Oh! Are you alright? What happened?” The angel rushed to his side to help him back up.  
“I’m fine!” Crowley hisses, slapping the other’s hand away.  
Aziraphale held his hand close as he tried to analyze Crowley’s crude behavior.  
He care to a conclusion. “Crowley. Are you in pain?”

“Hah! What? No.”  
“Oh…”  
“Anyways, where to”  
“Could we just stay here? If it’s not too much trouble at all.”  
“Oh no it’s perfectly fine.”  
It wasn’t fine.  
Crowley’s mind wandered upon his cuts. His hand mindlessly wandered over and stroked them through his pants.  
After a bottle of wine, Crowley having a bit too much, they mindlessly blabbered about everything under the sun.  
“Oh dear excuse me for one moment, too much to drink.” Aziraphale stood up and headed to the bathroom.  
Crowley waved him off.  
Hold on. Did Crowley clean up his mess? Was there still blood dripping down the tub? Shit!  
He tried to remain calm. 

Many excruciating minutes later, Aziraphale came out of the bathroom with a worried look on his face.  
“Can you explain to me why there is-“ He said softly before being cut off.  
“You know how churches are, it’s just like… spicy floor. For me anyways. For you it prob-“  
“Crowley.”  
The demon gives him an uneasy look.  
“Razor slipped while shaving.” A lie rolled right off the tongue.  
Crowley looked up at Aziraphale, a concerned look still plastered on his face.  
“Did you patch yourself up then, dear?”  
Crowley nodded.  
“It’s looked pretty bad in there, are you sure your ok?”  
“Hah. Never been better.” Crowley quipped.  
He wanted to stand up. To prove he was fine, that he could walk. And didn’t need the angel’s help. But only one small thing stood in his way, it hurt to. Hurt so bad.  
“Sorry’ I ruined everything, dove.”  
“It’s ok, no need to apologize.” Aziraphale sat down beside him. Also making sure to not touch him yet.  
“May I touch you?” His hands were gentle upon the demon’s hand. Slowly giving each fingertip a quick squeeze.  
Crowley nodded again. He could feel his face contort into a sorrowful frown.  
“I can see your hurting, please let me help you.” Aziraphale whispered as gently as he could.  
Crowley was pretty sure his heart stopped beating for a few seconds. His face turned towards the angel as quickly as he could’ve.  
“Are you really ok my dear?”  
No response.  
“Crowley…” Hands drew dangerously close to his cuts.  
He let out a small warning hiss. Everything started to hurt again.  
When Crowley shifted away from Aziraphale, he must’ve opened up one of the cuts.  
All the feelings were too much from Crowley to handle.  
Aziraphale watched the demon’s face scrunch up even more and a small tear slipped from his eye.  
“Please. I want to help you',let me understand.”  
The silence that followed scared Aziraphale more. So he protested a little louder.  
“Crowley… what’s going on?” He gripped his shoulder and provided a quick squeeze.  
“It hurtsss.” The demon managed to hiss out.  
The angel’s hand grasped Crowley’s, and gave it a quick kiss. “Where, my dear?”  
Crowley supplied another heavy sob.  
Aziraphale brought his face up to his. The look in the angel’s eyes were understanding and forgiving, and somehow also demanding.  
Crowley kept on shaking his head.  
To remotely calm him down, The angel pulled him into a hug. His arms snaked around Crowley’s shaking body. Holding his head close to his shoulder.  
“Take your time. Just remember I love you, and never judge.” He reassured.  
It took several minutes for Crowley to get a hold of himself. When he did, his cheeks were already so tear-stained and puffy eyed.  
“I-I’m sorry.” He heaved.  
“Nothing to be sorry about-“  
Crowley suddenly broke away from the angel’s grasp and adjusted his belt. Aziraphale became even more confused as the demon pushed down his pants.  
“It hurtsss…” Crowley gasped again.  
“Oh baby…” Aziraphale finally saw what was bothering him to the point of aggression.  
The neat cuts Crowley lined beforehand looked worse than ever. They’ve gone past their original positions and tore farther. Some even combining with others. Blood was smeared throughout Crowley’s leg. Some was even still gushing out.  
“What happened?” Aziraphale said softly.  
“I-“ Crowley could feel his breathe deepen. He tried to talk. But nothing came out.  
Aziraphale slowly reached out to heal the wounds, but the demon slapped it away.  
Only faces and emotions dared to speak now. Aziraphale gave him an alarmed look. It asked ‘why?’  
“Then let me take care of you.” He suggested.  
Crowley’s nod was painful, but he needed this.  
The angel miracled in a first aid kit. Supplied with everything such as bandages, alcohol wipes, (and for extreme circumstances) a needle for stitches. And judging by the cuts on his thigh, he was going to need them.  
“This might hurt a bit. You can hold onto me if you must.”  
Crowley prepared himself to the best of his ability.  
“Deep breathe for me now.” Aziraphale said as he opened a wipe.  
The demon clung onto his shirt for dear life. Aziraphale had to reassure him it would all be over as quickly as he could manage.  
Crowley protested with sounds of discomfort the whole process.  
“Fuck!” He shouted as the wipe grazed over the cuts.  
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Aziraphale snuffed. He never wanted to hurt his Crowley.  
After a few painful minutes, Crowley’s scars are all stitched up and a bandage was wound around them.  
In fact, he was still crying. Aziraphale was trying his best to comfort him. Feelings of guilt paraded the angel’s senses. He wishes he could just miracle him healed. But that was against the demons will.  
“Vrythings’ heavy…” Crowley murmured trying to make the smallest advance.  
“Tell me what happened.”  
Crowley told him everything. Even he tried to fight it off, wanting to call his angel. But he thought he wouldn’t care.  
“You think I don’t care about you?” Aziraphale gasped.  
“Love, I care too much about you. When you didn’t call back, I knew something was wrong. I just felt it. And I guess I was right.”  
“Can my call me that again…” Crowley huddled closer to the angel.  
“My love? My reason to be.” 

“What happens when I want to again?”  
Aziraphale wrapped his arm around his demon.  
“Please, call me or at least think about me. And remember that I love you.” He smiled.  
“Thank you angel.”  
Aziraphale couldn’t understand his motive to do so. But he remained supportive and comforting throughout the healing process and so on.


End file.
